


For Everything

by dilemmaed



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Andreil, Andrew Minyard Has Feelings, Andrew Minyard Loves Neil Josten, Cigarettes, Domestic, Exy (All For The Game), Fluff and Angst, Kissing, Language, M/M, Neck Kissing, POV Neil Josten, Post-The King's Men, Professional Exy (All For The Game), Protective Andrew Minyard, Rooftops, Soft Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard, bc it's still andreil, not too soft though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-23
Updated: 2020-02-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:07:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22855216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dilemmaed/pseuds/dilemmaed
Summary: "What did he say, Andrew?” Neil asked, his voice a whisper into the silence surrounding them. “Was it about me?”“Always the narcissist, Josten.” A hint of amusement in Andrew’s low voice.Neil caught himself, almost shaking his head, but scared that any sudden movement might cause Andrew to leave and all Neil wanted was to keep him close, to keep his fingers touching, so he elected not to move a muscle. “You know what I mean, asshole.” Neil said, but his voice had no edge to it.Andrew studied Neil’s face, his eyes dancing from scar to freckle to lips to bright blue eyes. “It doesn’t fucking matter. He won’t say it again.”
Relationships: Neil Josten & Andrew Minyard, Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 55
Kudos: 579





	For Everything

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!
> 
> It's been a long time since I've posted anything on here. I promise my hiatus is ending! I've been working on my chapter for To The Fallen and it WILL be up soon, hopefully in the next few weeks. College has just been kicking my ass, but I will be back!
> 
> The other night I just had had an itch to write something about these two idiots, so here I am. 
> 
> This is just a one shot! A little context being that this takes place a little over a year after Neil graduates. Andrew and Neil are on separate professional teams, but they live together.
> 
> This is my first aftg/andreil piece so be kind!
> 
> It's unbetaed so all mistakes are mine :)

“What,” Andrew said, not feigning interest towards the man in front of him. He flicked his cigarette at Neil, taking a drag.

“Nothing,” Neil replied, his voice absent, his mind somewhere else. He kept looking at Andrew, at the way the setting sun accentuated his silhouette, the way his hazel eyes seemed to glow in brilliant technicolor. Even at the distance of a few feet, Neil could see the soft spattering of golden freckles that danced across Andrew’s nose. The shadowed column of his throat, a gentle slope. Neil wanted to press his lips against it, the way he knew Andrew loved, though the other man would deny it until his last breath.

Andrew turned away from him, blowing smoke into the cool evening air. His blond hair ruffled against the breeze, tousling it in a way that made Neil want to run his fingers through it, pull it–

“Stop staring,” Andrew said, not bothering to turn around, taking a few steps away from Neil. “Fucking junkie.” He shook his head ever so slightly.

He didn’t stop staring. He couldn’t. Andrew would call him stupid for it, he knew, but he just couldn’t stop looking. He wasn’t even wearing anything special, just a black long sleeve shirt and a pair of grey joggers.

Andrew either didn’t know, or didn’t care, how beautiful he was. Neil thought it a crime, but knew that if he said as much Andrew would probably have a knife at his throat before he got the words out. He had the sort of quiet beauty that maybe you didn’t notice at first glance because it had been hiding under his cold indifference. Neil knew that it was intentional, that every bit of Andrew’s impassivity was carefully practiced, structured around him like armor. But Neil could see past it, and had been able to for years now. That’s not to say that he could read all of Andrew’s expressions, knew what each of them meant, but he knew his moods better than anyone, save Bee.

Neil’s own cigarette had burned down to the filter almost completely. He hadn’t taken a single drag, but he almost never did. He put it out on the railing of the balcony before flicking it over the edge. 

They were standing on the balcony of their apartment, their first apartment. They’d been in it since Neil graduated, for more than a year now and though Neil had to sleep facing the door and needed to check for possible exits in every room he entered, no matter how many times he’d been there before, it felt more like home than any other place he’d lived. They hadn’t decorated it much and it wasn’t anything extravagant, just a two bedroom close to Neil’s home stadium, but it was theirs. His and Andrew’s. That was more than he ever dared to wish for in his entire life. 

When he turned back around, Andrew was standing next to him again, a few feet away, but close enough that he could see the colors swirling in his irises. He seemed to be considering Neil, or at least something about him. His elbow was resting on the railing, armbands peeking out from underneath his shirt sleeves. 

“Close your mouth, Josten. You’ll catch flies.” He said impassively, rolling his eyes. Neil snapped his mouth shut. “Mouth breather.” Andrew said with an almost imperceptible shake of his head. 

“Can I take my turn?” Neil asked. This was a game they’d been playing for a long time now, something that came with a sort of practiced ease after all these years. He was looking down at Andrew’s bandaged knuckles, red bleeding through the white of the gauze. They always had a few scratches here and there, but this was more than that. He’d gotten in a fight on the court the other night. Neil hadn’t been there; he’d been playing a game with his own team. His coach had withheld the information from him, thinking it would ‘distract him’ and he hadn’t found out until afterward. If the fight had been worse, he would have punched the man. Despite spending most of his life lying to those around him, Neil didn’t like being lied to. 

Andrew hadn’t said anything about it, not even what had happened. He’d showed Neil in the ways that he could, that he was okay, letting him see his injuries, help him clean the one on his back that he couldn’t reach properly. They weren’t bad injuries, none that would scar, but he worried all the same.

Andrew gave a nod of assent, turning his face so he could look at Neil. His gaze was always so unflinching, in a way that let Neil know that he had Andrew’s attention, despite how his expression might counter the fact.

Neil sidestepped closer to him, bringing his hand close enough to touch Andrew’s own, waiting for permission. Andrew crossed his hand over Neil’s hooking their pinky fingers together. 

“What happened, the other night on the court?” Neil asked, his voice low. 

Andrew reached out with his free hand, grabbing one of the strings on Neil’s old Palmetto State sweatshirt, examining it. “A lot of things happened, you’ll have to be more specific.”

Neil wanted to roll his eyes. Andrew knew exactly what he meant, but the man was nothing, if not direct. He wanted Neil to ask him straight, so that was what he would do. “Why’d you hit him, Andrew?”

They all got in fights, Neil more than most, since he had an “attitude problem” as they called it, but Andrew had punched one of his own teammates. It’d turned into a brawl in the middle of the match. It was a violation of contract, probably of Andrew’s probation and it had been on national television. It was a bigger deal than a simple fight. He was only glad that Andrew hadn’t pulled his knives out.

“He was mouthing off.” Andrew said, pulling on Neil’s sweatshirt string before letting go of it. He looked up at Neil as if that was all there was to say, then went back to his cigarette, taking another drag.

Neil squeezed Andrew’s pinky lightly. “It took three people to pull you off of him, Andrew. I  _ know _ you. You don’t snap like that for no reason, despite what people may say about you. What did he say?”

Andrew’s mouth was a flat line, lips pressed together, his expression betraying nothing. “Something he shouldn’t have.”

Taking one last drag of his cigarette, Andrew put it out on the railing, dropping it off of the balcony to join Neil’s on the ground below. He didn’t say anything else, but he took his free hand, bringing it to Neil’s face, hovering above his cheek for a moment, a question. Neil leaned into it, letting his eyes flutter shut for the briefest of moments as Andrew’s skin came into contact with his.

Andrew’s thumb settled on Neil’s scar, the one that Lola had given him back in Baltimore those years ago with a cigarette lighter. The skin there was a combination of the strange smoothness of once-burnt skin and slightly bumpy where the welts had healed over. Andrew drew gentle circles on the spot and Neil, either from the ministrations or the evening breeze, was fighting off a chill. He watched Andrew watch his own motions, not daring to look away from his eyes. 

“What did he say, Andrew?” Neil asked, his voice a whisper into the silence surrounding them. “Was it about me?”

“Always the narcissist, Josten.” A hint of amusement in Andrew’s low voice.

Neil caught himself, almost shaking his head, but scared that any sudden movement might cause Andrew to leave and all Neil wanted was to keep him close, to keep his fingers touching, so he elected not to move a muscle. “You know what I mean, asshole.” Neil said, but his voice had no edge to it.

Andrew studied Neil’s face, his eyes dancing from scar to freckle to lips to bright blue eyes. “It doesn’t fucking matter. He won’t say it again.”

Neil closed his eyes as Andrew’s thumb ghosted over his lip. He let out a warm breath through parted lips. He wasn’t going to push Andrew into telling him. He would tell him when he was ready, on his own terms and that was enough for him for now. Neil nodded almost imperceptibly. “Okay.” He said, bringing his hand palm to palm with Andrew’s. He didn’t thread his fingers through, only kept their hands together, pinkies hooked. Their hands were rough, calloused from Exy, Neil’s scarred, Andrew’s bandaged. His eyes watched the way their hands fit together, Andrew’s fingers were slightly longer than his own, thinner. Neil’s joints were more pronounced. The contrast was stark, but he welcomed it. 

Andrew’s fingers found his chin, pulling Neil down the three inches between them, so close that Neil could feel Andrew’s cigarette-scented breath against his lips. Neil’s heart was racing at the prospect of being so close, even though it had been years since Andrew kissed him for the first time on the rooftop of Fox Tower, even though they’d been sleeping in the same bed, side by side, for a while now. He was still the only person who could make Neil feel like that, like he was about to catch fire if Andrew didn’t touch him. 

Neil’s eyes opened slightly, watching Andrew’s movements, the stillness of his body, bare inches from his own. His eyes were hooded, watching Neil with lanquidity. The only thing giving Andrew away was the slight way his breath had quickened, something that Neil had become accustomed to in the years that they’d been together. It was one of the few reactions that Andrew allowed himself. It told Neil that he wasn’t alone in this, that Andrew wanted him just as much as he wanted Andrew. 

He brought his forehead down to rest against Andrew’s carefully, giving him all the time he needed to back away if he needed to. He wasn’t going to take anything far, but he wanted to be clear of Andrew’s boundaries regardless. “Where?” Neil barely whispered.

A pause. “Shoulders up.” Andrew said, his voice husky.

Neil nodded against Andrew’s head, swallowing. He made to move his hand from Andrew’s before the man threaded his fingers through Neil’s own, squeezing them with purpose, as if to say, ‘ _ that’s fine _ ’. His grip wasn’t exactly gentle, but it wasn’t rough either. Neil closed his fingers around Andrew’s glancing towards their hands, the rare image of them entwined. Andrew wasn’t a big one for holding hands, but in the few moments he allowed it, Neil never wanted to let go.

Andrew tilted his head up to meet Neil’s lips, but the latter turned his head to the side, his nose resting against Andrew’s cheek. 

“Junkie,” Andrew breathed against him.

“Yours,” Neil said, turning his lips to Andrew’s neck. His nose must have been cold from the evening air because Andrew actually shivered at his touch. “Yes or no?” He asked, his words slightly muffled against the warm skin of Andrew’s throat. 

“Fucking yes,” Andrew said, tugging on Neil’s hair with his free hand. He liked doing that, touching Neil’s hair. Even if they were just on the couch, or in bed, he would have a hand in Neil’s hair, running his fingers through the auburn strands. The touch alone made him hum in contentment against the skin of Andrew’s neck.

Neil kissed Andrew's neck, lazily sucking at it, but not hard enough to leave marks, not without Andrew’s sayso. He pressed kisses down the column of his throat, on his Adam’s apple. He felt it when Andrew took a desperate swallow, a heaving breath. When he nipped him lightly behind his ear, Andrew let out a soft groan, so quiet that Neil wouldn’t have heard it if the other man’s mouth wasn’t right next to his ear. Andrew was never particularly loud in bed, but he wasn’t quiet either. Despite it, Neil loved coaxing sounds from him, making him breathless. Andrew’s fingers tugged harder at Neil’s hair, pulling his mouth off of his throat and crashing right into Andrew’s lips.

Andrew kissed him with a ferocity that stole all the air from his lungs, made him ache to be closer, closer, closer. He wanted to be enveloped by the heat of Andrew’s mouth, his body. When Andrew kissed him, it was like coming home; it was like the high after a big win; it was a spark of hope in his chest, a key pressed into his palm, promises written in the grooves. 

His mouth was so warm against Andrew’s, returning the kiss with equal fervor, his tongue sliding against the other man’s. Andrew always kissed him like a parched man receiving a drop of water, always aching for more, desperate for another drop. A strangled moan escaped his throat. Andrew’s hands tightened on his hair, muttering against Neil’s lips, “So loud.”

Neil’s back was against the iron railing, his hand still grasping at Andrew’s, his other hand at the nape of his neck, fingers dancing through his blond hair. Neil kissed the corner of Andrew’s mouth, whispering, “You like it.” 

Andrew only hummed, his nose brushing against Neil’s. His eyes opened slightly to see Andrew watching him through hooded lids. His lashes were brushing Neil’s cheekbones and he smiled against the blond’s lips and he could swear Andrew only kissed him to make him stop, but he wasn’t going to complain. He could do this all night; Andrew had been gone for an away game and those few days felt like years and Neil was starved from Andrew’s touch, from the feeling of his body next to his own in their bed.

Andrew pressed one more lingering kiss against Neil’s lips before pulling himself off. He let his head rest against the taller man’s shoulder, breath heaving hotly against Neil’s skin. Neil pressed his face into Andrew’s neck, taking in the scent of him, trying to catch his breath. He could hear his heartbeat and imagined he could hear Andrew’s too, elevated, beating in tandem with each other.

They stood there for a while, chest to chest, without saying anything, Neil’s fingers absently running his fingers through Andrew’s hair. Neil could still feel how warm his cheeks were, how tight his pants had gotten, but he stood there, pressed against the man who swore to protect him, content to hold him there. He’d hold him all night, if that was what Andrew wished.

When Andrew finally spoke, it was so quiet that Neil barely heard him, “It was about you.” The indifference had returned to his voice, but he wasn’t looking at Neil, his face still pressed into the crook of Neil’s neck.

It took Neil a moment to clear the fog around his mind and remember what it was Andrew was talking about. He only nodded, giving Andrew’s hand a soft squeeze. It was only a confirmation of something he had already known. If it had been about himself, it wouldn’t have been worth it to Andrew. He couldn’t give less of a shit what people thought of him and he made that clear, but to say something degrading about Neil… That was when Andrew got violent. He didn’t know what the guy had said, didn’t want to know, honestly. All he knew is that it must have been pretty bad for Andrew to react like that. He pressed a chaste kiss to Andrew’s head.

Andrew lifted himself off of Neil, breaking all contact, save their entwined hands. Andrew’s lips were swollen, his cheeks red, hair sticking up and yet he still managed to look composed. Yet at the same time, he looked even more beautiful than he had before, ravished, though not quite sated. It only made Neil want to go inside and finish what they’d started.

The air had turned cold as the sun disappeared behind the horizon and though Neil was still hot from Andrew’s touch, the blond man in front of him shivered. Andrew often ran cold, wearing Neil’s nicer sweatshirts around the apartment. He was the one who went to bed fully clothed, where Neil, after years of hiding the mess of scars on his chest, slept in only sweatpants. With Andrew getting cold, he knew they’d better go inside, but his feet felt stuck to the ground.

Andrew made to move towards the door, but Neil tugged him back by their entwined hands. “What,” Andrew said, his eyes vibrant with color, his stance expectant.

Neil lifted their hands, bringing Andrew’s bandaged knuckles to his lips, kissing each one gently. Andrew looked disgusted, but not genuinely so. He ran a thumb across them again, the dried patches of blood on the gauze, knowing the weight of what Andrew would do for him, though he would deny it.

“Thank you,” Neil said. “For all of it.”

And he meant it.

**Author's Note:**

> Please, please tell me what you think! Leave Kudos or comments below I absolutely love hearing from my readers! 
> 
> Feel free to contact me on tumblr at dilemma-ed!
> 
> Let me know if you want to see me do more for this fandom/ship because I absolutely love these books and these characters! Also let me know if there's anything specific you'd like to see me do!
> 
> Hint: I'm working on something else right now. It's a little bit of angst, a little bit of fluff, because I can never write anything entirely happy. 
> 
> Edit: If you want to see what the guy said to Andrew, see the comments!
> 
> Please don't hesitate to check out my other work, To The Fallen, if you haven't read it! It's a dark Dramione war fic :)
> 
> Until next time,  
> Em


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